Confront the Stubborn
by dweirdizme
Summary: Warning: This is an outtake from my story Secretly Foxy. This is the part is where Yotsuba decided to spill out the real reason why she doesn't want to stay at the Minaminos house to her mother.


**Warning:** This is an outtake from _Chapter 2: Mull Over_ of "Secretly Foxy"— a Kurama and OC pairing fan-fiction story that I am currently writing. To those who haven't read 'SF' firsthand, if you don't want to be confused—and if you have some spare time—read it (it's only consist of two chapters). To those who just want to try reading this, then off you go. Hope you enjoy it.

**{Insert Writer's Note for the SF readers}**

**This is the detailed conversation of Yotsuba and her mother that was not included in Chapter 2. I decided to complete it (as I have mentioned to Graphospasm, I didn't feel putting this in the second chapter because it was an incomplete part back then…and isn't necessary). It is also a gift to myself (Yeah, I'm weird enough to give my own self a gift) and to the readers for the awesome reviews I had. Thanks a lot. I hope I didn't disappoint you with this one. It's just something I'd write every time I escape doing SF's Chapter 3.**

**I also posted this because I know SF's update will be late. Gomene!**

**This outtake is especially for deaddog1991 (Thanks for helping me a LOT with the YYH stuffs) and Graphospasm (I wish you like it).**

**{End}**

This is written in my OC's POV named Yotsuba. She's a girl. Here's an idea to help you get to the same page.

_SF Short Summary: When Yotsuba's mother decided to go to Vegas, Yotsuba was compelled to stay at the house of her mother's best friend, Shiori Minamino. The problem is Yotsuba has secretly dislike Shiori's gorgeous red-head son, Shuichi, since she was a kid."_

This is the part is where Yotsuba decided to spill out the real reason why she doesn't want to stay at the Minaminos house to her mother.

* * *

Confront the Stubborn

_dweirdizme_

When I got home, the first thing I did was to look for my Mom. I found her in the master's bedroom, gleefully packing her clothes and stuffs for their travel—without any sign of Ken around, I may add. A stroke of luck it is. I don't want Ken lurking there as I talk with Mom and give him the idea that I'm like any petty teenager, making big problems out of small issues. He thinks of me better than that. And I _am_ better than that. Just don't involve this one.

Mom saw me prowling in the doorway and greeted me with a cheerful smile.

"Welcome home, sweetie! How did school go today?"

She had to ask.

_Nah. I had a great time thinking of conspiratorially plans to stop you from your Vegas trip. And to my dismay, I had none. That's why I'm here to take my final resort and that is, for heaven's sake, to confront you. And believe me, I doubt if it would do any good._

I feel telling her that but decided not to take the risk of being kicked out of the room before I air my intentions out.

"Great," I fibbed, entered the room and sat at edge of the bed. "We studied Ancient Civilizations in World History and had a debate regarding the Mayans."

"Wow. That's something. Hmm…" she mumbled, probably thoughtless about the topic. She had her full attention on the red strapless dress she was holding. "Do you think I should take this?"

"Sure, sure. Ken loves anything you put on," I snorted.

She must have not detected the sarcasm in my tone for she giggled. I was about to ask her what was funny about it but then she blushed dramatically, and I figured out I was better off _not _knowing.

"I should probably bring my black stilettos to match this," she then mused out and was about to go off finding her stupid shoes.

"Uh, Mom, can I talk to you for a meantime," I interrupted. I don't know what kind of attack I should use to open such topic. Heaven knows, I wasn't good at any of this. Big thanks to my biological father for being taciturn that I unwillingly have inherited.

"It's about something _important_."

"Important," she turned to me and an out-of-place smile appeared on her lips. She tiptoed to the bedside and sat beside me, placing a hand on one of mine.

I cringed. It was very unusual for her to pay this kind of attention to me. I hoped she wasn't thinking I'm here to seek her motherly advice on some romantic-flustered problem because if she does then her bubble's going to burst.

"What is it about?" she eagerly asked. "Is it about that guy named 'Takeshi'?"

I bit my lip. Darn, I was right.

"No."

"Boy troubles?" she guessed.

Seriously, does she think I was _that_ eager for that kind of thing? She, of all people, should know that I'm not like that. After her disastrous relationship with my father, I hadn't made a secret regarding my phobia with marriage and any kind of serious relationship.

On the other hand, though, she _was _right. I mean, _it _was _a_ boy problem. Not just in the way she means.

"Uhm, actually, it's about the conversation we had earlier this morning."

I thought it would be better not to go further by beating around the bush. I should have known better because the scowl that appeared on her face the second the words came out from my mouth proved that she instantly regretted welcoming the thought of listening to me.

"What about it?" her voice turned petulant. I could only imagine the picture of her dainty hand resting on mine slowly morphing into a claw.

Believe me; she pinches so hard it can make you cry for one solid hour. I could remember being terribly afraid of those hands when I was a kid. I was scared of it more than I was frightened of boogeyman.

"Mom can you just go with my plan and let me stay here at the house." I started. "You know I would love to see Auntie Shiori. But Mom, couldn't you think how awkward it's going to be. She's newly married, for Pete's sake. And I don't want to bother them. I know it's only for a month but you greatly know I don't want to jump into situations where I don't feel at ease. And you should be perfectly aware of that fact—being my mother to start with."

She sighed, removing her hand on mine and press the tips of her three fingers to the right side of her head. Her brows furrowed.

Uh-oh…Now I'm in a big trouble.

"Why are you being so difficult, Yotsuba?" she said, exasperated. "I can't understand why. Aren't you the one who told me how you missed Shiori and how you gladly want to stay at her house?"

_Um, actually, as far as I know, I can't remember saying anything 'about wanting to stay at their house' besides that it was a lie. Haven't she figured that out?_

"Why the sudden change of mind?" she continued, not bothering to hide her irritation. "I mean if there's a good reason behind it, you might as well share it now because honestly, this conversation is beginning to get on my nerves—and so are_ you_!"

Time to tell the truth…

"Mom, I think Shuichi and I have a problem," I said to her, making my voice serious. "It's something I failed to tell you since I tend to ignore it but I think it's time for you to know in order to make you understand why I am not so eager about your plan."

She raised one eyebrow. "And what is it?"

"I don't think Shuichi likes me," I answered her. And her reaction wasn't the one I was expecting. Her lips twitched, her shoulders trembled—like she was holding back a laugh. What was wrong with her? Did she think I was joking? Or is it an effect of hysteria?

_No_, it's not a product of hysteria. I answered myself. She probably thinks I was making a joke. That _has _to be it. That's how it is with my mother's brain.

"Why, I didn't have any idea that _you_ courted him?" she playfully teased. "You might as well have told me about it me so that I had helped you. I see we seemed to be more alike than I thought—quite the aggressive type, eh. "

I glared at her.

"Mother, when I said _'I don't think Shuichi likes me'_…" I began putting a firm tone in my voice—she should take this seriously before I begin considering violence. "I mean HE hates my presence. He doesn't want me around for some apparent reason I _couldn't_ see. NOT in that ludicrous way you imply!"

"_Dislike_ your presence for _no_ definite reason," she guffawed. "Please, Yotsuba. Is that the best you can think of? I'm starting to think you don't have any imagination." She then burst out laughing again.

I knew it! I exactly knew this is what her _harebrained _mind will conclude up.

"Just to get what you want," she murmured, shaking her head as soon as her laughter was controlled, "What's with you teenagers, nowadays? So eager to put things your own way, you'll do everything—"

"I am NOTlying!" I hollered, exasperated with her and her knotty brain.

My mother stopped short and took in my expression. There must be something strong about it that had cut her laugh off.

"Then elucidate."

"I will," I snapped. "Remember back when I was a child and the excuses I always say each time you ask me if I want to go to Auntie Shiori's house? It's because I don't want to see Shuichi—probably as much he doesn't like to see me too. You and Auntie Shiori we're always busy talking to each other and will always put us together to play a game but HE_ never_ played with me. HE _never_ talked to me. As far as I could remember it, WE _never_ became friends. He _would_ inch away from me whenever I was near him and I don't know why! Don't you get what kind of situation I would get myself into if I stay at their house? Think about it, Mom."

Silence followed.

"You know what I think?" she said after a moment.

I nodded, hoping her brain had correctly processed it now.

"I think _I_ was wrong regarding your imagination. You do have a great one considered that you came up with this. I'll give you that," she smiled teasingly.

My teeth snapped together. I feel like shouting every bad word I know. _Why is it so hard to talk to her?_ For one wild second, I wished my life was like to those rebel-turned teenagers that starred in a late-night sitcom suffering a melodramatic life with rich parents who doesn't give them attention. My life seemed to be much, more, worst.

"But seriously, Yotsuba, I think you just misinterpreted some things," she continued, oblivious of the red haze that's beginning to cloud my vision. "I know Shuichi pretty well as much as I know how you'd go to extremes to have what you want—"I was about to react but she rudely cut me off "—Now, don't give me that look. You know, it's true. Well, putting that aside, Shiori did a good job bringing up Shuichi. He grew up to be a perfectly polite young lad, so caring and compassionate. I saw that especially during the times Shiori was sick. He took care of his mother all alone with such patience and love I could not see kids in his age have for their parents..."

_Was I supposed to get hurt by that?_

"…It's _hard_ to believe your story, dear."

That actually hit a nerve. I was being truthful, not being deceitful as I planned in the first place, and yet she thinks I was lying. Seriously, she's unbelievable.

"I'm sure you've just misjudge Shuichi's actions. You were kids. You two were probably awkward with each other. And besides, I couldn't picture Shuichi doing that to someone. It's unlikely of him to do that. It's hard to imagine."

I frowned. I wonder how she couldn't picture him doing that when she could picture her own daughter making up delusions.

"But okay," she sighed, resignedly. "I'll keep your suggestion on my mind. So it would be fair to you."

Fair? It was unfair from the beginning. Yeah, she did listen to my story but she didn't believe it. She only believed in one thing and that is in the perfection of Minamino. But I didn't want to argue with that. I once saw how Naomi got into a serious argument defending _that_ guy. I _didn't_ feel the idea of having one with my Mom—of all people.

"Let's just see what will happen, okay?" She stood up and kissed my forehead.

I nodded. What other option do I have besides agreeing?

I sighed and watched her leave the room to look for her stupid shoes.

The outcome of this is going to be horrible, of that I was sure.

…

…

…

Saturday morning came and I ended up in front of the Minaminos house complete with my knapsack and suitcase together with Ken and Mom.

* * *

_*Why did you post this crappy outtake here! You should have post it in the story!* throw daggers*_

_*maneuvered a Keanu-like matrix act*_

"_Okay, I have a good reason why. It's because it will spoil the coordination of SF's chapters. Second, because I don't feel putting this to my second chapter, and third, well, because I just feel like posting it! Sorry!_

_*Runs off while avoiding daggers*_

YAY! I'm finished explaining. Now I should go back dealing with SF's Chapter 3…again.


End file.
